By Dawn Natelle, edited by Eric

A River Standalone Story

Roundstones and the Wolf

(This story, related by Mark Waters, uses Ojibwe terms in many places. The initial part of the story comes from Mark’s own imagination, but later the history of the Ojibwe people is incorporated into the story from Manitou, speaking to Mark through the river.)

The saga of Danny and Jessa comes to a close. Thanks to everyone who's stuck with me and special thanks to Lizzy Bennet, whose input has made this a much better and fuller story than I expected.

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Week 33 - the baby was as big as celery, which I found hard to believe. I had, as of my last doctor’s appointment, I had gained twenty-seven pounds and was now a DD cup, which Danny enjoyed. My belly was big enough to have its own zip code.

When someone dies, the soul moves to the Afterlife, which is in a different world. Still, something remains here. Those who passed away, somehow still live here, through the things they did and left to us. This is what still keep them connected to our world and extends their lives among us, even if they are unseen for our eyes.

Legend Of The Legend

When you pull a sheep out of its flock, it will instantly try to get back. When a sheep is alone, it does not eat anything. It just makes noise, calling any nearby sheep. Its eyes scan the horizon, looking for any sign of a flock of sheep. When it sees a flock around, it runs towards them as fast as it can. No animal suffers more from loneliness then the sheep. By looking at a lonely sheep, one can realize how much lonely people are suffering.

The Wiseman

Continuing the rough draft release.

As I followed Ghost, or at the very least his superimposed image, the bustling sidewalks grew busier the farther we walked and the closer we drew to Ring Zero’s entertainment districts due west of the horseshoe shaped harbor.

Ghost wouldn’t tell me our destination within the district, so I decided pressing him for an answer would be a waste of time, but I had another reason for keeping silent.

I was enthralled by my surroundings.

The Dark Queen
by
Snarfles

The Valley

With the permission of both Sarah-Goodwoman, who wrote the initial story here: https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/69906/what-about-chil... ,
and of Laika, who then penned the reply in this little piece: https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/69929/what-about-bob ,

I'm adding my own little twist to this rather odd pair of tales. It starts a few minutes after Laika's tale ends. I hope you enjoy it.

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After a few moments of waiting, Marcus realized Janet wasn’t going to say anything else. “I know I’m short,” Marcus finally said. “But my eyes are not down there.”

Janet snapped her eyes back to Marcus’ face. “Sorry, “she said with a slight blush. “It’s just. . . They’re so big!”

Marcus looked down at her breasts. “You don’t have to tell me,” she sighed. “But what really gets me, is that I had to tell a girl that my eyes are up here.”

Janet’s blush darkened. “I can’t believe I was staring like a boy.”

This little piece was something that came out of nowhere while I was trying to sleep early today. I got up, intending to jot down basic info for it, but ended up spending about two hours doing other things on the computer before returning to get the sleep I still needed.

The interesting part is that this resurfaced a few hours ago as I was trying to go back to sleep.

The caution is primarily aimed at the brief kill scene near the end, but also due to the storyteller's description of the job.

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A tree grew far from the forest, in the fields. The farmer wanted to remove the tree from his land, but he had no axe. So, he removed all leaves and all buds from the tree. When fresh leaves grew, he removed them too. The tree grew weak and soon, the farmer could take it out of its roots.

Legend Of The Forest